


Kitty kisses

by mae_linda



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Animagus, M/M, Possible Character Death, Suggestive Themes, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-12
Updated: 2014-02-12
Packaged: 2018-01-12 03:20:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1181283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mae_linda/pseuds/mae_linda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: Will Draco’s new friend bring him the love of his life?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 2

Down a rarely used corridor at The Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry a small furry figure was stomping toward an unknown destination. The small feline seemed even tinier in comparison to the stone hallway it was traveling in search of a calm, collected demeanor.

Because let it be known that this kit was fed up, absolutely up to his whiskers from all the shit he had to endure. Sure, his coat was shiny and oh so soft, but did that really mean he would like to be cuddled and choked by all those grubby hands? No, it most certainly did not. And if one more moron even attempted to bend for a pat he was going to puke on their shoes.

Eyes eerily visible in the gloom, the kitten was nearly spitting with indignation, fur bristled all along his back as his paws did their best to convey his near temper tantrum state. Tail twitching in annoyance the small ball of furry fury stopped and dropped on his rear to begin cleaning his pelt, since that always helped to calm him. 

Not to be, apparently, as out of thin air a voice purred too close to his sensitive ears “Hello there, little kit,” making him swivel his head to be confronted with gleaming yellow eyes. “Are you lost perhaps?” and was that hopefulness in the purr? Mrs. Norris, great, just fucking peachy; the cat also known as master tormentor of helpless young creatures without a master. Humph. Well, he certainly wasn’t helpless; however there certainly seemed no point in getting his ears scratched just to prove that. So he took the best course of action, cowered as if stupid Filch was reaching for him, making the bitch turn hopefully and then ran as fast as he could down the darkened hall. The impression of steps behind him made him pump his little legs all the harder and plunge through a convenient gap under a door that allowed a sliver of light to be seen by frantic kitty eyes.

Ha, take that you great big ugly brute, I’m sure you can’t squeeze through there, and I’d so enjoy scratching your stupid mug if you did try. Little heart still doing double time and adrenaline still making kitty instincts higher than normal, the small pink nose twitched. Several smells assaulted his nose and some of them were revolting. The stench of Dark magic was enough to make him sneeze, which he did, repeatedly. In turn it certainly blew his cover, as a hex flew his way that he barely had time to duck from. When he lifted his paws from his face it was to see amused grey eyes close to his own and a lowered wand. He noticed the tears. Fresh ones, as well as the tear tracks confirming his guess that this human was hurting. Cautiously sniffing the blond human it was decided the stench did not come from there so he padded cautiously toward the black boots then mewed to be picked up. Warm, careful, long fingers picked him up and brought him close to a warm chest. From his vantage point, he decided the stench came from one of the corners of the room but decided this human needed him more now. He would inspect the smell later.

Turning and pressing his tiny paws, he began to knead the chest as he looked into eyes that were clouding over again. He began a steady chatter made up of mews and purrs. This made his whiskers twitch repeatedly as the human laughed at his antics. To try to distract him he battled at the sad face with claws carefully retracted. It seemed to work, because the human released a happy breath and the eyes seemed to clear to an icy blue-grey. The human began to pet him, but gently, not pressing his fur like there was no tomorrow while speaking in a hushed voice that seemed to make him sleepy, causing his claws to dig in and a steady low purr of contentment to rumble in his chest.

However, that disgusting smell was now closer, along with a scrape of nails on the floor jolted the kit wide awake. Ears moved to pinpoint the sound and then flattened as a small growl escaped the now angry kitten. Twisting in the hands that held him, he jumped gracefully onto the floor and stared right in the seemingly startled mug of a truly ugly rat. The rest was lost in a series of frightened squeaks and the commotion made by a chase that doomed the rat from the start. It never stood a chance; the instinct to eat or just kill was powerful in the kit and it simply overrode any other consideration. 

The remains of what had been a rather fat, albeit scarred and twisted rat were mere tatters after a few minutes of rough play, and the kit finally unhooked claws and opened his mouth to release the prize at the human's feet. Silence dwelled in the bathroom for all of three seconds before the sound of disgusted, spluttering, surprised laughter was heard. The kitten looked up and wondered what was wrong with the present. He bent his head to examine it. In truth he could understand what was wrong. It was ugly, smelly, missing a toe and not all that brilliant, but still courtesy said that the least you could do is say thank you before throwing it away. 

He sniffed and turned his tail on the carcass while approaching his human. His because really once you get them a present they should know well and good that you see them as property. Apparently this one understood, as he was picked up and cradled and petted and almost sent into a doze until there was an almighty sniff followed by his fur crackling with magic. It would seem that there were still things this one needed to learn, so he pushed himself on his hind legs in the embrace and started meowing his opinion on the matter while gently battling in succession nose, loose strands of hair and wand stinking of Scourgify. 

Gentle laughter met his explanation and he was going to huff until a God awful screeching began and he was forced to curl into his human’s embrace and flatten his ears to block it out. The laughter increased in volume and once the horrible squealing stopped he was being introduced to “Myrtle.” Green eyes narrowed and with a vicious twist he faced the thing. He hissed for all he was worth. But annoyingly the monstrosity did not shrink back in fear but tried to pet him. Oh let it try, because it was so going to get it. Just a bit nearer . . . 

Suddenly the floor got far away and they were moving, making his claws grab on to the black cloth around his tummy so as not to fall. Well, at least his human was having fun, silently shaking with laughter and bidding goodbye to the monster wailer. He just dug his claws a bit deeper and settled in for the ride.

Sometime later he was being placed on something even softer and he rolled on his back sleepily, fully expecting a tummy rub for his trouble. When it became clear that none was forthcoming he rolled to the side and observed his human with narrowed eyes that opened wider the more he looked. Taller than average, his human had longish blond hair, and rather pointy features, the kind that would remind you of those snobby Siamese rather than a rodent. He seemed slightly underfed but the skin was acceptable, pale and nicely firm over some muscle at least. For now it would do, but next dinner time rolled around he would make sure he eats enough . . . hmm, how should he call . . . one short peak and yes, it was a him, because calling him human was not really specific. Observing his human, he began adding characteristics to the possible description, fussy with his clothes – all went into the hamper, folded even, careful with his wand – always close to hand, a prude – that towel was around his hips before the pants dropped and . . . the kit nodded in confirmation: brushes his hair before a shower. Well, he resembled royalty with the glowing hair and flawless manners, his fastidious care made him only add to the image and there was really nothing for it: Prince it would be.

‘Well, your Highness ,’ the small feline thought amused as he was picked up and brought close to a smooth naked chest, ‘I will come with you, to protect you as you shower but wet me and you’ll be sorry.’

-

 

Minutes later, shower over, the kitten was still shaking his tiny paws and growling softly and the royal pain in the arse was still laughing and unfortunately for him, still smarting from a few well placed scratches. 

“Oh come on mister, it wasn’t intentional.” Draco chuckled at the disbelieving look he got for that, “alright it was, but considering the mess you made of that rat . . . “

Draco Malfoy was a lot of things but stupid wasn’t one of them. It was perfectly clear that at the very end of the bed curled on the pillows like a sultan sat a very irked kitten. The twitching tail was a dead giveaway but so were the rumbling growls underneath those flattened ears. 

Leaning against one of the four posters of the bed, Draco paused to observe his new friend. What had seemed like dark, almost black fur was actually grey. In fact it was a shade of grey that was almost blue in the light from the candles, making the little feline look almost ethereal. He was beautiful, Draco mused before chuckling as he remembered how the kit had hissed and scrambled indignantly from his grasp when he’d checked that it was indeed a he, which was probably part of the reason for his irritation now. The cataloguing of characteristics suddenly reminded him of something his Mother had given him over the summer holidays. 

Pushing away from the poster Draco moved to open his trunk to look for a certain book while thinking back to his birthday. 

Draco had been reading in bed a soft knock on the door was heard and after a pause Narcissa Malfoy stepped into the room with one neatly wrapped parcel in one hand and a carefully serene smile on her face. Draco sat up in bed while marking his place and placing the book he had been reading on the nightstand, curious about the parcel and worried about the look. What followed was one of the strangest conversations he and his Mother had ever shared. 

-

 

“Hello, Dragon. How are you?” Narcissa murmured as she brushed a stray hair from her son’s face. 

“I am fine,” Draco said slowly then “Mother, is that another present?” he asked, surprised but also pleased.

She looked down at the package in her hand before offering it to her son. “Yes, it is. Open it,” she urged adding a gentle “go on” when he hesitated.

Draco un-wrapped it with the swift, precise movements of someone well used to receiving gifts but still delighted every time he got a new one. Once the wrapping was removed Draco set eyes on with a book on cats. 

He lifted his eyes to look at his mother with a half amused, half curious look. Narcissa wasn’t smiling; instead she had a determined look about her face as well as a twinkle in her eye that boded ill for whoever had inspired it. 

“I thought perhaps it was time you were allowed a pet. Since cats seem have been your favorite ever since you were a child, you can choose one. The book is for you to make a choice based on knowing the specific personality, physical characteristics of each breed.”

-

 

While what his mum had said was true--he did like cats best--it still baffled him that he was allowed one now of all times. Then again, perhaps now was the best time after all since a cat would keep his secrets and provide the companionship he would need at present, for what was coming. He had breezed though the book then with real enjoyment, flipping through it now he couldn’t help the happy grin from spreading on his face, probably his first honest one in this school year. He had been looking for a pet but until now none could have been capable of putting a grin on his face like his new found friend had done. 

None of the cats he had seen had met the Malfoy standard of what a cat should be. This little fellow was perfect and what was left was to find out his breed. Some cats need special food or a specific grooming regimen and Draco wanted to make sure he was healthy and safe.   
Flopping on his front at the foot of the bed Draco flipped to a likely photo and happy grey eyes looked up over the book to the kitten now watching him curiously, annoyance forgotten in the face of his no doubt weird behavior. 

Draco shifted on his elbows until the picture was visible for the kitten who approached slowly, tiny paws sinking in the soft comforter. Predictably his kitten tried to bat at the cat in the picture. Draco just chucked as he observed his very purebred friend, a Russian Blue apparently, make a fool of himself in front of a picture-cat who couldn’t care less about small fuzzballs full of personality.

Quickly conjuring a feather Draco angled it under the focused kitten’s chin and swept it up until it tickled his nose.

He laughed aloud as it made the kitten look cross-eyed to focus on it then as he swat at it so hard that when he missed he fell on his flank. The kitten made several more attempts, each one more forceful than the next until he finally managed to fall on his chin so that the only things visible were his ears and his rump with his twitching tail on top. 

Not long after the kitten was simply too tired to move, let alone swat at anything so Draco deemed him safe to be picked up and together they settled under the covers. Draco petted him soothingly from top of the delicate head to the tip of the tail as he kept the small body nestled close to his chest, waiting until the small heart stopped pounding so hard against his skin.

As the kit began to purr, Draco relaxed back, casting his mind to try and find a suitable name for him. Thinking about all he knew about him, which wasn’t much, eventually brought him back to the Second Floor disused bathroom. A bathroom where he had seemed to return more often these days and that he only associated with despair. Until now, because the kit in his arms had managed to change that with one small sneeze, a dead rat, and by hissing at annoying Myrtle. The rat had been particularly gruesome, and thinking about it, it did seem as the appropriate name for such a fierce little thing, after all, it was virtually harmless to everything else: Kilmousky it would be, in deference to his Russian heritage and his destroying that rat.

Draco realized he was drifting when he couldn’t hear the purring anymore but instead hear Pansy’s gushing over the “pretty kitty.” No matter how smart and cunning his dear friend was, she went absolutely stupid when being confronted with small furry things, cats specifically. Interest, which was what had brought them together as friends when they were small, as Pansy had been allowed a pet. Her Kneazle had eventually run away, having decided it was one thing to be petted to within an inch of its life by two obsessed children but that it would not suffer the indignity of being dressed in frilly lace and green silken dresses. With his beautiful Kilmousky, it was a sure thing she was just about to wet herself at the cuteness. Draco wasn’t worried, though. The kitten had proven it had personality and was not timid about giving sharp handshakes to those who deserved them. 

The same treatment was applicable to his other friends, although they would have different ideas about his small friend. Crabbe would discretely cringe, having a fear of clawed, small, furry animals since fourth year. Goyle would try to be supportive of his friends while trying to stifle his smirks. Blaise would be rolling on the floor when Pansy would get clawed and when Crabbe would stifle a whimper and cross his legs unconsciously. Then he would gently cajole Kilmousky with softly spoken words and careful, not too fast movements, and of course smirk triumphantly when Kilmousky would graciously allow himself to be petted. 

Draco was brought back to consciousness when a soft paw touched his nose repeatedly, like pressing one of those Muggle buttons they had been shown in Muggle Studies. It was annoying in that it tickled, dammit, and well, his nose was not round and red, either. He opened his eyes to big very vivid green ones staring into his, so close that he realized he was being gifted with a kitty kiss, nose to nose as they were. But then the soft weight slipped from his chest and after a moment the sound of cloth ripping brought Draco to full wakefulness as he peered over the side of the bed. The kitten seemed almost sheepish as he struggled futilely to untangle his claws from the duvet he had used as an impromptu ladder. Draco sighed as he reached over and gently released the small claws from the restricting cloth. 

Kilmousky meowed persuasively until Draco was forced to get up and follow him, then stop and stare as his intentions became obvious. He crossed his arms and refused to let the kitten out. But the now pitiful meowing and big round eyes finally broke his resolve. He Accioed his dressing robe and cast a hasty Lumos as he opened the door and the kitten slipped outside. Being a Prefect meant he would not get in trouble for being out after curfew, but where the kit thought it was going was as yet a mystery. Emerging from the dungeons, Kilmousky seemed to sense him behind and turned around and simply stared. Draco stared back until he began to feel ridiculous, locked in a staring contest with a cat. Then it dawned on him, Kilmousky was gently telling him to go back. The little ungrateful furball was waiting for him to leave, there in the Entrance Hall making him feel like he had just been stood up, which was ridiculous, but still. Draco decided he had no chance to win so bent and scooped up the kit just long enough to press a kiss to the wet nose. He turned around and walked away, hoping the kitten would follow but knew he wouldn’t. As he glanced back, his suspicions were confirmed. The kitten seemed to have vanished into thin air. Draco refused to sigh and instead walked back to his Prefect’s room, resolving to solve the puzzle that his Kilmousky was.

-

 

Huddled behind the side of the main staircase, a small furry figure waited until the soft retreating footsteps could be heard no more. The little ears stood to attention until he was positive the coast was clear then the shadow behind him began to lengthen as the small figure morphed into a young man. When the transformation was complete he sprinted up the stairs, not stopping until he reached Gryffindor Tower. Before the Fat Lady’s portrait he paused to regain his breath and then whispered the password ignoring the disapproving glare. Harry Potter breathed easily only when the curtains around his bed were pulled shut and fixed with the standard spells for privacy, Silencing Charm included. After collapsing back against the covers, he allowed the small bubble of near hysterical laughter to escape. When he recovered, it was to the stone cold sober realization that he was in deep trouble. 

In the space of one evening’s romp around the castle, his entire perspective on several things had changed. His Animagus form might react to his environment in feline fashion but he had the added benefit of remembering everything. This past summer he would have gone insane if not for the full time occupation that learning to become an Animagus. Staying at Grimmauld Place as a kitten had also meant that the house had been his playground instead of the tomb it would have seemed to his human self. The Order at least was aware of his success when they were confronted with the mess he’d made of all the draperies, which had been only his first day.

Harry reckoned that getting away with that and many such delinquencies was what influenced his behavior as a cat, making him a real terror in this form. His cat-self was a Slytherin through and through, easily causing trouble whenever he was bored, as well as getting out of it without much fuss.

Harry turned on his front, conjuring a slip of parchment and quill. He began scribbling quickly, trying to keep up with all the random bits of information that kept popping in his head. Eventually he had compiled a list of the facts in order of importance. He was quite happy with his work as he looked over the finished list and the notes on the margin:

1\. Peter’s missing more than a finger now (not that I’m sorry) - find out what he was doing in that bathroom  
2\. I bonded as a cat with Malfoy (but he was crying) – find out exactly what he was crying about  
3\. Malfoy is a cat person (who’d have thought?) – find out if I could more closely spy on Voldemort through Malfoy as his pet  
4\. Malfoy talks in his sleep (useful) – ha! Crabbe and Goyle are afraid of small furry things, good to know  
5\. Malfoy is hot (not that I was looking, nah) – find out where the scar on his forearm came from

Adding up the questions, there was only one person who he could ask without arousing suspicion – Severus Snape, mentor extraordinaire. The idea still boggled his mind but in a way it just figured the former-git would be a cat lover, which actually explained his huge dislike for Sirius and Remus. The summer had been quite revealing in this sense, as the moment Severus Snape set eyes on the furry whirlwind that was Harry’s cat-self, he seemed to melt toward the cat at least. It probably helped that he’d caught Harry as he was surveying the destruction he had caused to the Black house looking cute and fuzzy and very feline. Ever since, Severus had taken to teaching him, sometimes for hours at a time, about anything and everything. And when he figured out the cat was at least as smart as Potter, he had taken the time to inform Harry that he preferred talking to the cat. 

The fact that the cat seemed to like Severus just as much was not surprising. The man spoiled him as well as being very gentle, in addressing the cat as in touching him. And he gave fantastic belly rubs! In turn the cat’s presence seemed to calm and somewhat mellow the acerbic man so much so that they sometimes fell asleep before the fire. 

Harry just sighed and curled up to sleep, thinking he could always ask tomorrow. He rolled his scrap of parchment and laid it to the side of the bed. As was his usual, to avoid nightmares during the first half of the night, he transformed in his kitten self. Kilmousky, though, was amused. Severus wouldn’t mind a midnight visit. He picked up his parchment in his mouth, began the long journey to his friend’s abode. He traipsed into Slytherin territory and right at the Potions master’s quarters. He sat on his haunches and waited. 

The man had created a ward, specifically designed to alert him if Harry as a cat was outside his rooms. Originally the ward was set up when Harry had still not mastered Occlumency and was having nightmares involving Voldemort. Harry had gotten better and now the wards were for scheduled meetings between them. Harry just hoped he would be too cute to be hexed for waking the man up now. The door opened, and two black eyes stared narrowly into mischievous green before Severus picked him up and slammed the door. Kilmousky just relaxed and hoped for a saucer of the man’s excellent frothed milk, as they would both need some for this discussion.

-

 

Severus took the rolled up scrap of soggy parchment and cast a Drying Charm on it with a moue of disgust. The cat was apparently amused by this as it gave what Severus could only surmise to be a kitty grin before wandering into his small kitchen. More than likely the kitten’s goal was his usual cup of warm milk that was the only thing that would ensure a restful sleep Amused now, too, Severus Summoned the cup and saucer of warm milk he had prepared just minutes before. He snorted as the cup came into view, kitten attached to the handle and mewing in protest.

Setting kitten and cup down on the coffee table, Severus poured some frothed milk on the saucer before relaxing with his cup and list on the couch. He scanned the list and almost spilled his milk at the first line. 

“Cat, did you actually kill the rat?” Severus couldn’t help but ask. Kilmousky turned and just looked at him before offering another of those grins. Severus blinked then smirked. He glanced down at the question and cleared his throat, waiting until the kit had finished his milk before beginning his explanation. 

“Pettigrew had been staying with me this summer, as per the Dark Lord’s instructions. Since I couldn’t abide the man and the Order needed me on the field, I convinced him to Polyjuice as me. Of course he knew that I could poison him anytime I wanted and get away with it, so he agreed to act as me to anyone who came looking for me. Sometime this summer, Mrs. Malfoy and Bella dropped by for a favour. Because of Lucius’ inability to bring that prophecy to the Dark Lord, his family was now in danger. As I understand it, Draco has some sort of mission to complete and Mrs. Malfoy wanted me to help. Pettigrew was tempted to tell them he wasn’t me, but Bella can be a terror when she wants to. He made the Unbreakable Vow that Mrs. Malfoy demanded but disguised he could only make it in my name. He told me about it but he would suffer the consequences should he not help young Malfoy. As such, he must have snuck in, but I have no idea how. Luckily, because of your intervention, there is a chance that Mr. Malfoy won’t be forced to complete his mission.” After delivering the rather long explanation Severus just cast an approving look at the kitten who was affecting nonchalance, grooming himself while his ears were alert. No doubt the little wheels were turning, considering the Malfoy situation. 

Returning to the list, Severus considered the next point before answering the question. “It seems whatever the mission is, it seem to be impossible to complete. I know that Draco’s family is no longer in the Dark Lord’s graces. And Draco probably knows this, possibly directly from his Father’s master.” Glancing lower on the list he continued. “I agree with your idea Mr. Potter, it would be a good idea to become his pet. I have known young Mr. Malfoy and he would be an excellent pet owner, I know for a fact he loves cats. He would also be a good source of information, and since due to our lessons you are acquainted with this year’s curriculum you can afford the time away from your studies.”

Chuckling slightly at reading the next line, Severus choked on the last and stared at the kitten for a bit. Because there was no doubt about it, once an idea had formed in that feline head, the cat would follow through on it no matter what. Consequently, Severus decided it would be better just to trust Malfoy’s good taste and tackle the last question before retiring for the night.

“The scar you saw is more than a bit suspicious. Mr. Malfoy came to me the first day of school and asked for a potion to heal it, refusing to tell me what caused it. It is my suspicion that he was not deemed worthy of the Dark Mark, so he received a different kind, and I think it was a werewolf scratch, not enough to turn him, but enough to scare him.” Severus sighed as he continued to pet the kitten in long strokes, then stopped and stared at the kitten. The little blighter had snuck up on him when he was talking and he had unconsciously begun to pet him. Humph, perhaps he had sensed Severus’ disquiet but even more likely, it had wanted a warm touch before bed. 

“Whatever you chose to do, inform Dumbledore of your intentions and think of what you want your friends to know as well. This way you will be in no danger while conducting your investigation.” The last was said against the coat of the cat, who purred warmly to his friend in thanks for all the help. Severus then gently placed the cat on the floor before bidding him goodnight as he himself retired for the night. The cat could leave if he wanted; the wards incorporated a kitty flap in the door for exiting his room only. He would probably choose to remain curled up in front of the fire as was his preference. 

-

 

The next day, a small, fluffy, grey blue feline was waiting outside the Slytherin common room when Blaise Zabini came out on his way to breakfast. The pitiful mew attracted his attention and he noticed a small cat looking longingly at the now sealed entrance to their common room. Bending down, he reached for a pat on the small head only to have the whiskered rascal cough a hairball on his expensive Italian shoes. Startled awake by this and a bit nauseous, Blaise sat back on his heels and cast a “Scourgify” on them before considering a different approach. Five more minutes of gentle entreaty and the cat was rubbing his cheek on Blaise’s hand. It attracted some of the Slytherin First year girls who just couldn’t resist their combined cuteness. So when the kitten demanded to be let into the common room Blaise was only too happy to obey. Once in the common room though it jumped from Blaise’s hands and ran all the way to Draco’s prefect room. 

The small fur ball scratched at the door, mewing pitifully at Blaise all the while. Blaise snorted before whispering the password and then closing the door after the kitten entered. He was going to have to convince his dear friend to loan him that babe magnet sometime, perhaps after breakfast. 

In the room, the kitten made himself at home on the bed, his small back arched at the base of Prince’s throat, purring softly as he fell into a light doze. He snuggled even closer as he felt a warm hand curl protectively around him. 

Five minutes later, the charm Draco used to wake up sounded and sleepy grey eyes stared at his newfound Kilmousky. Draco laughed when he was gently head butted before they burrowed again under the covers. 

Because really if Kilmousky was not magical and may have been a cat that ran away he was now Draco’s because he came back to him. And magical or not, Draco still didn’t care, the company was appreciated and he would enjoy it for as long as possible. Truth be told, the kitten had already weaved a thread around Draco’s heart and spoilt child or not, he was keeping Kilmousky even if he had to Obliviate the former owner. 

Following on the thought of the cat not really being a cat, a sudden thought struck him with how weirdly unconcerned he was with the idea. Perhaps because ever since he saw those eyes, a strand of memory had been tugging at him. 

He had always been fascinated by green eyes, even as a child. The fact that Harry Potter had the greenest eyes Draco had ever seen was relevant. He had fixated on the boy to the point that from careful observation to discover any faults he had inevitably discovered the good parts too. Because obsess over something for enough time and it will eventually become reality. And he was almost certain now that it was quite possible that he was sharing a bed, right now, with the only boy he had wanted as a friend. Though, not quite entirely accurate, since Fifth year, he had wanted a bit more. Then again seeing Harry in the Quidditch showers would probably do that to anyone. A toned body with golden, silky smooth looking skin as well as a natural grace went a long way to forcing Draco to admit to pulling pigtails. 

Grinning he slipped a hand beneath the covers and pulled a squirming kitten close to his chest before administering a belly rub guaranteed to make Kilmousky purr loudly. A few minutes of this and he had a contented ball of fluff in his arms that was almost asleep. Draco was considering a bit of a lie in before his stomach protested loudly, making him reconsider his plans. Twenty minutes later they were in the Great Hall, Draco fending of Blaise’s offers to kitty-sit as well as Pansy’s cooing reaches for the kitten as both he and Kilmousky ate. 

Their breakfast was interrupted when the Headmaster announced that Peter Pettigrew, believed dead for the past sixteen years, had been found dead inside Hogwarts itself. Security measures were instated and the students were kindly asked to not venture outside their common rooms after sundown. That suited Draco just fine so he returned to his breakfast, just in time to see Kilmousky steal his bacon. He just smiled at him before the next announcement made the smile freeze on his face. Harry Potter had left Hogwarts in order to focus on preparing for his battle with Lord Voldemort. Draco blinked then narrowed his eyes and resumed eating, occasionally feeding more bacon to his own private Saviour, his Harry disguised as pure fluff. 

-

 

In the following months the student body eventually got over the fact that Harry Potter was out of reach. Instead all the attention now focused on Draco Malfoy and his cute kitten. And it was so that Draco Malfoy basked in the spotlight by day and suffered sexual frustration by night. Draco mused that he had always known that together, he and Harry would have been the talk of Hogwarts. What he hadn’t considered through was what knowing he spent all his time with Potter would do to his libido. It was all great, pranking various students in the halls, having a warm soft weight by his elbow or on his shoulder during class, having Blaise practically begging to kitty-sit as a favour. However, he also spent his alone time with him, and not just the kit playing with a feather while he finished his essays for the next day. They frequently took showers together, although now, Kilmousky was protected by a Water Repellent Charm, making Draco tingle to think this was Harry he was showering with. Also each minute Draco primped to get ready for the day made the kitten look more and more curiously at him. 

Draco had even limited his time in front of the mirror so that he had to forgo slicking his hair, which made the kitten ecstatic as he could now play with it while riding his shoulder. Draco had gotten used to it, but couldn’t help but wonder if maybe Harry preferred his hair loose, and not just as a kitten. This was what was driving him insane, the idea that his crush could see him like this, unguarded and at his most private. Draco felt like an exhibitionist most of the time and worse was that he enjoyed the attention enormously. In fact he liked it so much that he was forced to leave Kilmousky in Blaise’s dubious care in the mornings so he could take a shower and relieve some of the tension created by the steamy dreams he’d had.

-

 

Harry wondered if Draco remembered him in his dreams because he was driving Harry insane. His sleeping pattern made it so that he would turn to his human form during the later part of the night. And since Kilmousky insisted on naps during the day, mainly during class, he was unable to fall back asleep. So he sat and watched as Draco slept and occasionally dreamed. The first time it happened, Harry had been only half awake, and when Draco moaned his name. Harry had sleepily turned around and kissed him very gently. He had been shocked and a little ashamed of himself at first. But he soon noticed it was the only way to shut Draco up when he was moaning like that, because after a peck the blond would be silent again. Harry didn’t think he could stop kissing him if those sweet sounds continued. 

But soon just a touch of heaven was no longer enough. Harry was fairly certain that touching a sleeping boy like that had to be illegal somewhere. He had tried to stop himself, sitting at the Slytherin’s desk to be out of touching distance but he couldn’t seem to resist. So he had resorted to writing again, borrowing one of Pansy’s blank diaries that she had lying around. He was careful to place it under the bed when he finished. He wrote of every touch, every kiss he’d stolen so that Draco wouldn’t miss the memories, or dreams, if that’s what they felt like to him. A month of this and Harry was adding his hopes and dreams as well as his fantasies starring his beloved blond. He only hoped that when the truth would come out, Draco wouldn’t be too mad at him. In any case, the diary would serve as an explanation, at least in part. 

At times the situation just became too much to bear and when Draco woke up with a stiffly in the morning he would burrow under the covers and lick, transforming just as Draco woke up, to make it seem as if he was merely playing. That came to an abrupt end when Draco took to taking showers very early in the morning, just barely managing to leave him in Blaise’s dubious care. Those were the mornings when he wished Blaise didn’t insist he play cute for the girls. He would have much rather watch his beautiful Draco, pale and glistening in the shower, and to comfort himself Harry wrote that down too. It helped that Blaise was considerate enough to take him out to pee. Because those mornings, with Blaise affording him a measure of privacy by turning around, he could rub against the cool wet grass and think of Draco’s beautiful feet against the cold wet tiles of his shower. 

Even if his feline self felt no attraction for Prince, Harry’s feelings, all of them, burned bright in the kitty heart and made him very in tune with what Prince was feeling. So he was there for Draco when he received worrying news from home and when Draco was upset or sad or tired. Kilmousky and Harry were in accord in at least one point though. Before he had spent so much time with him, he had known something was up with Malfoy, Harry just hadn’t realized it was none of the blond’s fault. A small knot of anger had formed in Harry’s gut as he had realized how that monster, Voldemort wanted to destroy another family. Without knowing the specifics, it was clear their life was being threatened. Harry resolved to save them, so Draco could be happy again. 

-

 

For his part Draco had come to some conclusions of his own. Cemented in the six years he had known Harry, knowing him close had just brought them closer to home. For example, fighting with someone for five years can give you a good appreciation of their character if you decide to ever look at it that is. Harry Potter had grown in Draco’s own estimation from seeing Harry as just being brave and stupid to understanding his compassion, sense of truth, respect for family, caring and protectiveness for his friends that outweighed all his faults. The faults were still there, but Draco could look past them to the boy he might have been in love with without even knowing. 

The fact that Harry wasn’t really what his parents wanted was a valid issue. But Half-blood or not, he was still their one chance to be free of this reign of terror. Draco still hoped The Brat Who Stole His Heart would be able to defeat the Dark Lord, but he doubted it. Even so he could no more stop his heart from hoping than he could date Potter. Draco supposed they would see when they would stop pretending of only being a boy and his pet kitten.


	2. Chapter 2

It was the day before Valentine’s Day and Draco in particular was not in a good mood. While he dearly loved Kilmousky, he really wanted to spend the day with Harry, which just wasn’t possible. And if that wasn’t bad enough, Blaise wouldn’t stop badgering him for a few minutes with Kilmousky on his shoulder, just until he got a date. Draco hated that his friend treated Harry as an animal but for the moment that’s what he was, no matter how Draco wanted him and not his furry friend. Eventually he gave in and let Blaise walk Kilmousky around a bit around school, Draco figured it wasn’t healthy how he clung to Kilmousky anyway.

But watching him go was making him even more bereft, so he stormed outside for a bit of fresh air. He settled against a tree close to the lake and enjoyed the sunshine. It seemed time, time to talk to Harry and maybe try and see if anything between them was possible. Lost in his thoughts, he stared across the lake until his eyes hurt from the glow of the sun on it. He seemed so transfixed that Kilmousky stepped lightly so as not to startle him and for once just curled up quietly in his pocket, letting him think.

Draco groaned as he levered himself off the hard ground. Clearly the Portkey hadn’t been designed for safe or comfortable transportation. He stopped cold when he heard the sibilant voice of the Dark Lord reached his ears. “Come here, boy, and do not make me wait.” The command seemed to come from a little distance so Draco composed himself as best he could before obeying. When he saw that the Dark Lord was alone, he gulped. In his terror, he barely noticed when the chain broke and the locket soundlessly tumbled to the ground, catching on fur on its way down. Nor did he notice when his pocket had stopped squirming as his attention was caught on something else.

“You are useless to me, aren’t you? Pretty, but there isn’t much in that head of yours, is it? Not enough to consider that if you failed to kill that fool Dumbledore I would kill you? My patience has been tried long enough and since your parents decided to flee and leave you behind you shall suffer for their failures too – Crucio!” The long rhetoric speech partly prepared him for the shock that the Unforgivable was but not for his parent’s desertion of him. That hurt more than the Cruciatus and Draco just succumbed to the pain, to escape the mental anguish. 

Watching Draco cry out in pain Kilmousky decided that desperate measures were called for. He left Nagini’s carcass, still piercing the locket, and pranced until he was right next to Voldemort’s boot. Since there was no audience to alert him of it, Kilmousky obeyed instinct and peed on him, copiously. He cringed at the sibilant scream of disgust, it was too loud and he actually folded his ears at the swearing, so vulgar. Then he was being picked up by the scruff and held in front of a truly ugly mug. Scratching could only make it better so Kilmousky proceeded to do just that. Seconds later Kilmousky was flung away and instinct again kicked in to make him rotate and hand softly on the pads of his paws. 

Harry then transformed and watched as Voldemort’s face congested more and more with fury and something else. While seeming to be barely breathing, Voldemort made a valiant attempt to laugh at the deadly intent Harry was sure could be seen in his eyes. Then Harry cleared his expression and just looked, waiting. He looked as Voldemort became aware of his own mortality, as he screamed to see Nagini dead, as he shook at the sight of the ruined locket. Thanks to Severus Snape, Nagini’s propensity for shiny things had finally been her undoing. Mr. Malfoy’s cool observation of Pettigrew’s constant presence as well as the vicious death of any cat within a mile of Voldemort’s hideout and his wife’s cleverness at realizing the fatal allergy had been instrumental for this one moment. 

And when Voldemort whirled to face him again, he nodded as their suspicions were confirmed and the monster chocked and then fell, wheezing, to the floor. Drawing close to the dying wizard Harry quoted to him: “Allergies, if not treated immediately at the onset of an attack, may be fatal.” Harry spoke the words in a monotone before checking the pulse. He needn’t have bothered, as he felt the last exhale. It seemed that reptilian noses were not equipped for such things such as allergies. And this time, the bastard wasn’t coming back, since the Order’s spies had ensured the destruction of the things that had kept him alive that first time.

Harry Potter turned around and rushed to Draco, who had passed out under the pain of the Cruciatus. Carefully picking up the other boy Harry activated the Emergency Portkey the Headmaster had made, which took them directly to the Hospital Wing. Once there, he tenderly placed his precious burden on a bed before rushing anxiously after Madam Pomfrey. Thankfully she was in her office, with the Malfoys, who rushed past Harry when they heard what had transpired. Spies for the Order until the last possible moment, it was clear that all they cared about now was the well being of their son, for which they had changes sides and fought to protect.

When Pomfrey shooed them away from the bedside so she could work, Mrs. Malfoy approached Harry. It was all Harry could do not to transform and scamper off at the sight. Mrs. Malfoy warmly took his hands in hers and sat him down on an unoccupied bed. 

“Thank you for sending the Patronus Mrs. Malfoy. Your Patronus is beautiful by the way.” Harry blurted before he could stop himself. But he was grateful he had gone to Draco and to have had the Malfoys on his side to find and destroy the Horcruxes. 

“Thank you. Are you well, Mr. Potter?” she asked in a soft voice, soothing his frazzled nerves a bit. Harry bit his lip as he fought not to transform.

“I’m fine” Harry said hating himself for the tremor he could hear in his voice. He gasped as he felt the comfort of Mrs. Malfoy soft hand gently stroking the back of his hand. And when their eyes met, he could no longer hold back his transformation when he saw the understanding in blue eyes, so similar to Draco’s. Those same hands held him gently as the petting was resumed all along his back. It soothed Kilmousky and soon he was a purring mess of relaxation, so much in fact that he nearly missed Mrs. Malfoy’s next words.

“I am very glad your Animagus form is a cat, Mr. Potter. Lucius still isn’t very sure but I will work on it.”

She petted him a little more before placing him on the bed and leaving the ward, with Lucius in tow. They moved as one and for a little while Kilmousky wondered if he and Prince would ever move like that. Then he turned to the matron with a questioning mew.

“He will be fine, Mr. Potter. I have administered the pain potion and . . .” the rest was lost in the relief Kilmousky felt at the news. 

He turned to stare at the still form on the bed and when he heard that Pomfrey had entered her office again, he jumped off the bed and crawled up Prince’s. He touched his nose to the so still, pale hand and mewed pitifully. Really though, Prince should be awake, shouldn’t he? Kilmousky tried biting a finger and despaired at the lack of reaction. Deciding to wait it out, he jumped on top of his chest and settled over the heart, hoping to hear when his Prince would awaken. 

The constant thump, thump suddenly became thump, thump, thump, meaning someone was waking up. Soft fur brushed against chin as grey eyes opened to stare right into green. The kitty kiss was inevitable but the kitty hug was a new one. Soft paws pressed against his cheeks as their noses rubbed, then slid around his throat, as the kitten curled around his throat. The moment of tenderness lasted long enough for Draco to relax, confident he was safe and warm and fuzzy inside at his kitten’s caring. Said kitten then moved to its hunches and growled as he patted his nose and cheeks in reprimand for the worry. 

Draco bit on a laugh of pure joy at the typical Kilmousky reaction and apologized until the paws stopped. Looking at him as he raised a hand to tenderly cup the little head, Draco suddenly remembered the squirming in his pocket and gasped

“You were there! How did you . . .” but was stopped by a paw that missed his lips and fell on his gasp. For a moment they both froze, the kitten seemingly embarrassed, Draco ludicrously aroused. Then Draco’s resolve to keep silent on the matter broke and he found himself addressing the boy the kitten was. 

“Harry, please change, we need to talk,” Draco asked, gently petting the soft fur, partly in comfort, partly so he wouldn’t run away. The kit tilted his head to the side as he teasingly tapped Draco’s chin once before changing.

At once both were aware of their position, Harry draped over a reclined Draco but before Draco could think of doing anything, Harry just hugged him hard before quickly getting off and slipping to sit on the edge of the bed.

Winded by the sudden hug, Draco could only stare up at him, as Harry seemed somehow taller and his face seemed somehow even more handsome than he remembered. Then again it had been months since he had last seen Harry’s face and his feelings and longing had grown and matured in that time.

“How did you know it was me?” Harry asked, bringing Draco out of his musings.

“I didn’t, I just hoped,” Draco smiled sweetly up at him, feeling warm inside when Harry’s breath caught. He was shocked by the look in the green eyes. There was such tenderness in them that Draco could finally allow himself to hope for something more, but before that, something needed to be addressed:

“You were there, as Kilmousky, weren’t you? When the Dark Lord . . . what happened?” Draco bit his lip. Was it over, or was it just one of Harry’s lucky escapes? 

“It’s over, permanently this time. Your parents helped us and . . .” the rest got cut off when Draco launched himself at Harry, holding him so close and shaking. Harry put his arms around him and just held on as Draco babbled, not letting him go until it was all out.

“He said . . . he said my parents had left . . . and I was so afraid . . . that maybe he was right . . . and that when you killed him I wouldn’t be there to cheer . . . and . . . I was afraid he’d hurt you . . . that you would di . . .” Draco only stopped when he felt as if he would choke on the last word and buried his hands in the back of Harry’s jumper and his face in the crook of his neck. The smell comforted him, warm and safe, like home, like cinnamon cookies and Quidditch in the spring and fresh morning dew and he calmed bit by bit.

When his Prince finally relaxed and his breathing was again normal, Harry pushed him a bit away so he could see his face. 

“Are you alright now?” he gently asked as he tenderly brushed a lone tear away.

Draco looked into those eyes as he leaned into the tender touch. He was tired and achy and he just wanted to sleep, but not alone. He would wonder at his luck, at having Harry respond this way to him later; for now, just feeling it would do

“I am fine, I just need to go to my room. These sheets itch.” Draco said with a haughty look that was completely ruined by the tired eyes and teasing curl to his lips.

Harry couldn’t resist; he bent down and stole a kiss from Draco. And it was much better than any time he had done so in the night, because a responsive Draco was better than anything. They smiled as they parted, their cheeks flushed, happy and eager to do that again. But then Draco pitched slightly forward and Harry caught him in his arms, worried and eager to get the blond in bed. As for the rest, it can wait, Harry told his traitorous mind as it conjured all kinds of scenarios involving Draco and him plus a bed. 

“Can you walk?” Harry asked before realizing how stupid it sounded. But Draco answered anyway, a teasing lilt to the words.

“No, but you could carry me.” Draco was pleased to see the blush in those cheeks, and he continued to look coyly through his fringe until Harry growled. Harry swept them up the bed and outside the room in a whirlwind of Gryffindor impetuousness, Draco’s delighted laughter accompanying it. 

They met no one on the way to the Slytherin dorm and not even in the common room. Harry figured that because the news of Voldemort’s defeat had traveled throughout the school, so everyone was probably in the Great Hall. By the time they entered Draco’s quarters, the blond was half asleep. Harry just smiled lovingly at him as he settled him into bed before transforming into a cat and curling up to purr comfortingly on his chest. The blond was bound to have nightmares otherwise, and Harry would do anything to prevent it. Kilmousky too feel asleep when a hand settled on his back, securing him in place with utmost delicacy. 

-

 

Harry had never before slept through the night without waking up, but when he woke up to warm hands massaging his back, he nearly purred in happiness. He drifted lazily to consciousness, relaxed and happy as he lay sprawled on Draco, like his kitten self had fallen asleep. Harry opened his eyes and basked in the almost dreamlike atmosphere of the room, with the soft light coming from the enchanted windows in leafy patterns. 

He lazily turned his head and caught Draco’s warm lips in a small peck before closing his eyes on a sigh. As he snuggled closer, Harry heard a small whimper and froze. It all came back to him then: Voldemort’s defeat and Draco hurting, Mrs. Malfoy as good as giving her blessing for them to be together and Draco caring.

But when Harry opened his eyes it was to gaze directly into silver pools of tenderness. In spite of physical discomfort, the smile the blond wore was bright and happy. Harry couldn’t help but grin in response and place another peck on that smiling mouth. 

By now, Harry was on all fours above Draco, moving to retrieve the Pain Potion that he had nicked from the Infirmary as a precaution. The blond took it gratefully, downing it in a gulp before licking his lips, the sight of which immediately send Harry’s mind in the gutter. 

However, it was the trust, more that anything, that took Harry’s breath away. Draco trusted Harry to take care of him, to give him a good potion, to not betray his trust . . . Suddenly remembering, Harry blushed, kissing the blond once again before getting up from the bed, even as the Slytherin protested. 

-

 

Draco didn’t understand where the plan was going. Had he not made it clear, true, in actions wore than words, that he wanted him to stay, possibly for a long time? But as Harry bent under the desk, Draco couldn’t help but admire the view. He got caught looking however as Harry abruptly turned around. Draco fought a blush as he focused on the object . . . was that a diary? . . . in Harry’s hands. 

He blinked at Harry’s apology, accepting the diary as it was handed to him and opening it. By the contents, it seemed that Harry hadn’t been aware Draco had known it was him. But as the entries became longer and more detailed, Draco’s eyes became rounder. He could feel the heat rising in his cheeks but now it had nothing to do with embarrassment. 

He looked up toward the end of the bed to see Harry squirming uncomfortably on his spot. Draco couldn’t say he was in a better condition. However disturbing the idea of being touched while asleep would have seemed, it also held a certain appeal, namely that it was Harry doing the touching. It certainly explained his dreams and that made Draco grin. Then he looked Harry right in the eye and smiled, broadly and deliberately to show his approval of both diary and Harry.

-

 

The grin had un-tensed Harry’s shoulders so that when Draco smiled at him like that he nearly pounced on him. But mindful of the soreness that was the after effect of the Cruciatus, he gently enfolded the blond in his arms. Placing a kiss on his forehead Harry chuckled at the mumbled inquiry after a bath even as his pulse spiked a bit at the image.

So he lovingly picked up Draco and carried him to the Prefects Bathroom. The school seemed awfully quiet but then again, Harry mused, it was early. Once they arrived at their destination, Harry set about filling the pool as Draco leaned on the side, ginning and watching him work. Harry then lowered himself in the hot water too and drew Draco to lay against his chest for support. 

-

 

Draco felt as if his bones were melting, the hot water and careful touches at once soothing and arousing. The soap suds were cleaning away the tension and leaving only feeling behind-the feeling of safety, warmth and so much genuine affection, so evident in every caress seemed all encompassing.

And when Harry gently nibbled on his ear he felt as if he was submerging in one of the fantasies Harry had written about. The soreness gave way to pleasure and as Draco reciprocated the touches it was even better. Better even than any fantasy he’s ever had about Harry bringing him pleasure because it was real. Between kitty-kisses and midnight fantasies, Draco had finally found his prince.

 

THE END


End file.
